The Daughter of the Moon Volume I

Chapter 2 : Encounters and daily life

Despite this revelation, Elenwë continued to regard Elrond as his father and Imladris as his home.

She saw no reason why this should have changed.

She had grown up surrounded by Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen, she had listened to Celebrían sing and tell stories for her, she had always been affectionate with her father, Elrond.

And then... strangely enough, she didn't care where she came from. She was certainly curious, but she didn't want to waste her time looking for another family.

Elenwë already had a perfect family.

How should she have felt close to people who hadn't been there for her?

Elrond was happy about this, but had been surprised to know that she would not be looking for her parents again.

But things were as they were and Elenwë loved her life in Imladris.

Elenwë had already been training in the use of weapons for several years.

Elrond had given him his sword when he was 50 years old (a young age among elves...). Forged for Elenwë, it was fine, light and very handy. A perfect weapon. She had called it Ant Estel, a gift of Hope, because if one fights and intervenes in a war, it is always in the hope of participating in the advent of peacetime.

Elrond had smiled when he heard his request. Elenwë had never been a "normal" girl.

She was quite boisterous and usually didn't stay still for long. She was lively and quick.

She was gifted in her studies and knew several languages, including Dwarf, Orc and... the language of the men of Gondor.

She was diligent and successful in everything, except sewing, embroidery...

The sewing needle was not her friend at all. The sewing needle was not her friend at all, but she enjoyed long discussions with Erestor, the elf archivist from Rivendell, and had a keen interest in history and legends.

Early on, she realised that she had the gift of healing, and she immediately decided to work on it by seriously studying the medicine of various populations.

Glorfindel trained her in combat and she trained until a few years ago with a man called Aragorn, a human who had grown up in Rivendell. In Imladris he was often called Elessar.

One day he disappeared and Elladan and Elrohir often followed him to walk among the Rangers, Ethir.

But he was gone almost ten years ago. From time to time a magician, a friend of Lord Elrond, would come and stay for a few days.

In common parlance he was called Gandalf, but Elenwë far preferred his Elvish name, Mithrandir.

It had been a long time since she had seen either Aragorn or Mithrandir. She hoped they were well.

The magician was always kind to her and sometimes spent long hours answering her many questions about the world outside the valley.

He even told her:

-One day you will come with me, Elenwë, to see this world with your own eyes, I am convinced.

In the meantime... what exactly? Nothing at all. She trained hard and soon, after a few years of practice, she became the best swordsman in Rivendell.

She had a better level than her instructor and it was a pity that she couldn't progress any further.

One day, however, there was a bit of commotion in Imladris.

That day, Lord Elrond welcomed a company of thirteen dwarves who came accompanied by...

-Mithrandir! Im gelir ceni ad lin! (Mithrandir! I am happy to see you again!)

Elenwë had immediately caught a glimpse of the tall, grey silhouette of the old magician.

She had jumped around his neck and the dwarves, stunned, had never seen such a spontaneous elf before.

They were sulking, not very happy to be among elves.

Elenwë remembered that elves and dwarves hated each other and immediately thought it was a shame.

She let her father welcome the dwarves by speaking to them in the same language.

When this was done, Elenwë spoke to them in their own language.

-An elf who speaks dwarf! That's surprising! exclaimed the man who looked like the head of the company.

-I learned this language on my own. I'm afraid my accent is bad. she replied. If it offends you that I am speaking in your language, I apologise and I will only speak to you in the common language.

-It is not that, my Lady. We are only astonished. We would be delighted if our presence would allow you to practice your pronunciation!

-Thank you very much, thank you very much! What's your name?

-Our names are: Balin, Dwalin, Fíli, Kíli, Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, Glóin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur and myself, Thorin.

-Our names are: Balin, Dwalin, Fíli, Kíli, Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, Glóin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur and myself, Thorin.

-Wait a minute... Thorin... Like Thorin-Écu-De-Chêne?

-The very same.

-I know a little about your story," Elenwë added with a sad smile. And you, you're not a dwarf, are you?

-No, my Lady. My name is Bilbo Baggins and I am a Hobbit.

-A... hobbit? Mithrandir never told me about your people... Are there many of you?

-No. We live in a small, hidden region, the Shire.

-Oh... Oh... I've definitely got a lot to find out.

At that moment Elrond called Elenwë to let the dwarves rest before the meal.

A little reluctantly she obeyed and joined her father.

Later in the evening she met Mithrandir and reproached him for not mentioning the Shire to her.

-My dear! Until a few years ago I didn't even know it existed!

-Didn't you? Then I forgive you!

The two people laughed discreetly.

The dwarves were definitely very funny! They were reluctant to eat the "greenery" (according to them) on the pretext that there was no meat.

During the meal, she even surprised a dwarf who was sticking salad in his hearing aid so that he would not have to listen to the music played by the elves.

Some of the dwarves stood up, singing songs to a wild rhythm and clapping their hands loudly.

The offended elves would try not to look too excited and would approach smiles that were a little forced.

Elenwë laughed in a cape, trying to be discreet.

Elenwë could see that the dwarves were annoying his father.

He was usually so calm that he let himself be annoyed by gestures of irritation, such as eye lifts, sky raises and unobtrusive sighs.

Mithrandir ends up seeing her holding back her laughter in vain. The young elf had eyes shining with amusement and hid her mouth behind her hand.

-My dear friend, who are you laughing at?

Elenwë could not hold back any longer and said:

-Oh, boy! But look at my father's face!